Don't know where don't know when
by Dollyrocker85
Summary: This is one shot story that follows on from,"We'll meet again". Set at the beginning of series 3. How will Alex react to seeing Jim again in 1983? There will be more one shots to follow. Very Jalex and very M!
1. Chapter 1

**Ok peeps, this is a follow on from our story,"We'll meet again". Basically it will be a collection of one shots that follows Alex and Jim through out series 3. Total Jalex again and rated M. Of course as ever we own nothing...except filthy minds :-) Enjoy! Jeepters & Scully xxx**

Alex was struck by the relief she felt; never before had Fenchurch East felt so much like home. Stood in the kitchen making herself tea, she wondered if it had all been real: Russia...Levkov...**_Jim._** She remembered the days when she was sure this place was a fake, that everyone she encountered were mere constructs; but now being back, it seemed more real than ever. She had to resist the urge to cling to Gene, to ask him never to let her out of his sight for fear she might disappear again if he did.

Gene had wanted her in on the interview with David Blond right away, never once giving her a moment to compose herself. The momentum of events upon her return served to make 1952 seem even more surreal. Had there really been a Russian scientist and a double agent working with him? _God, it all sounded so ridiculous, like something out of a James Bond film, _she scoffed to herself. Then she remembered the evening that she and Jim had shared together only hours _(years?)_ before. That had felt real, oh so wonderfully, amazingly _real_. She felt a pang of disappointment, the sort you get after you've awakened from a brilliant dream and realized that's all it was.

"Bolly!" Gene's rough bellow shook her from her thoughts. "I apologise for my DI, Mr Blond; I was hoping a knock to the 'ed might have knocked some sense into 'er. 'owever, this does not seem to be the case!" he scolded, throwing her an annoyed sideways glance.

Walking back into the office, Alex, still less than steady on her feet, noticed a tall, familiar looking figure in Gene's office. "Ah, the rubber heelers!" Gene's booming voice practically faded to nothing in Alex's mind as the realisation crept over her. Utterly conflicted, her mind told her to run while her body told her to fling her arms around him as he turned around. However, all she could do was remain bolted in place, slackjawed, as he strode into CID as though he owned it. "Hi, DCI Jim Keats, Discipline and Complaints. Wanna take a walk, mate?"

Sat in Luigis, the familiar haunt where she so often sought sanctuary after a hard day, Alex was now opposite Jim across the table. She struggled to hold her tongue as he tried to convince Gene that he was on his side. "Now, I know DCI Hunt didn't mean to kill you in the Douglas Lane robbery; the chemistry between you-it's obvious," he smirked, his eyes lingering knowingly on Alex. Taking a breath, she bit her lip. He was doing such a good job of acting as though he had never met her before. Once again, he was effortlessly charming, so warm. This was the man who had held a gun to her temple and shot her only hours earlier, and here he was holding his hand out to Gene, promising to work with him. Gene excused himself and left them alone. Jim looked straight at her and breathed a sigh of relief, rolling his eyes in Gene's direction. _How dare he? _Rage built within her at that flippant and friendly gesture. Leaning in so his lackies wouldn't hear her, she whispered fiercely. "You BASTARD," she spat at him, wide-eyed. Jim's brow creased in confusion. "Excuse me, DI Drake?" Not willing to give him time to spin her a line, she slammed the flat of her hand on the table. "Oh, don't you "_DI Drake_" me, James. You know exactly what I'm talking about; how could you do that to me after-" Her voice faltered slightly. "...after _everything_?" Her eyes scrutinised every detail of his face, looking for acknowledgement. Keats let out a short, nervous chuckle. "I understand you've been through a lot, Alex-massive trauma. You seem unwell; maybe you should go home, get some rest." His demeanour was open and sensitive; if she didn't know better, she would have believed he didn't remember her. Her stomach sank at the prospect. Unwilling to show her uncertainty, she stared back at him with steely resolve. "Oh, you'd _love_ that, wouldn't you? You failed MISERABLY back there in that car. In trying to rid yourself of me, you only sent me forward. I _know_ you; I know every last line on your face, every contour of your body, every detail of your impressive, sickening deception. _I'm watching you._ Every moment of every day, I'm going to be _in here_-" Alex pointed to his head. "Living, breathing, speaking. A cancer growing within, infecting, _dissolving_ you into a necrotic mass cell by cell. I won't let you get away with murder; not again." In one fluid movement, she was up and striding her way to the door, leaving a very agitated James Keats in her wake.

Curling up small on her old, zebra-print sofa, her head was a swarm of images; all ragged pieces of a jigsaw, yet none of the pieces seemed to fit together. Why wouldn't Jim remember her? He was definitely, _defiantly _the same man; she would know him anywhere. The deep eyes that looked straight through her; the arrogant swagger that said he's at least one step ahead.

The next day saw Gene back in the office despite his suspension and dragging her to see a severely brain-damaged burn victim. As if that weren't enough, they were met at the hospital by Keats. She found herself defending Gene's actions, knowing how bad this would look in a D&C report. Just as she was walking away, Jim made a glib comment about his two A-Levels, again playing the innocent down to a tee. _How could he really not remember her?_ She looked back at him briefly; there was no hint of recognition there at all. She was hot on Gene's heels, stalking back down the corridor when Jim called back to her: "I said I could help you, Alex..._I can_."


	2. Chapter 2

Later that day, despite the chaotic atmosphere of CID, Alex could not help wondering about Sam Tyler; he, too had returned to this world. He had committed suicide and left his family just to get back here-_did he know something she didn't know?_ What had been going on in his head?

"Chris, where are the archived files being kept now, the ones from the last 5 years?" She spoke matter of factly, trying not to sound too eager. "DCI Keats asked me to dig up a load this morning; they're in the Lost Property office, Ma'am, should find what you're looking for in there..." Chris chimed absently, more interested in the Marathon Bar he was eating.

Gingerly, she sloped away, hoping no one would miss her. The Guv was nowhere to be seen and the team were buzzing around dealing with the Blond case. She sat on the floor of the dimly lit Lost Property office, not before quickly switching off the three bar heater that someone had carelessly left on. "This place is a death trap!" Alex exclaimed aloud to herself. The files were endless; Chris hadn't taken the care to bring them up from the archives in any sort of order. Resignedly, Alex sighed; she would just have to get her head down and sort through them one by one.

She had been there a while, each badly-written report melting into the next, and still _nothing_, not one line on Sam. Then suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Alex was jolted out of her concentration by an icy cold hand on her bare shoulder; were she not already seated on the floor, the sheer shock of it would have sent her flying. "What are you looking for, Alex?" Jim's voice was even and low in her ear, a hint of mockery tingeing each syllable. She turned to meet him, rising to her feet, still clutching an open case file. "Wh..what are you doing here?" she questioned. "Me?" Jim's hand gestured to his chest. "This is the office your DCI has so generously allocated to me," he chuckled, looking around at the room littered with lost bicycles and dusty old files. Alex forced herself to purse her lips into a half-sympathetic smile. "What brings you here, DI Drake?" Jim's eyes glanced over the open file in her arms. "I'm..." she paused, not wanting to give away too much of herself; she'd done that before. "I'm looking for answers on another case CID is working on." She pulled the tatty brown file closer to her chest. "Not having much luck, though," she shrugged, her slash neck top falling off of her shoulder with the movement. Jim's eyes lingered longingly at the exposed flesh. "You work so hard, Alex," he replied slitheringly while stepping slightly closer. "You should take it easy on yourself once in a while. You're the best of them, Alex-coppers like you will drag this station into the next century..." He stopped suddenly, his look intense. Alex's chest grew tight as she gave a nervous squeak that she hoped would pass as a laugh. "I don't think I'll be here that long Jim, I'm going away..._transferring..._back home," she assured. Jim looked at her as though she were speaking Dutch before removing his glasses in deep concentration, toying the frames between his lips. "Have a drink with me this evening, my shout of course. I hate being the new guy-like I said last night, everyone hates me; s'bloody depressing." He leaned casually on the filing cabinet, now a mere half-metre from Alex. Despite the knot in her stomach and the flush in her cheeks, she knew she had to decline. He'd gotten to her before; she couldn't allow him to do so again, as another instance could cost her her life.

"I'm sorry, James, I don't think I should; I need to finish up here. I get the feeling the one file I'm looking for will be at the bottom of this lot." Alex nodded towards the mountain of crumpled old files before her, each one spilling out with scads of papers and mugshots. "Another time maybe." Unwilling to meet his eyes, Alex set about sorting through the next stack of folders. Something in Jim shifted slightly. "Oh, come now, Alex..." He couldn't hide the agitation he felt despite the sugar-coated tone he employed. "...these can all wait until tomorrow. A drink will do you good." He reached out a hand and let it slink down her upper arm in a gesture that should have seemed inappropriate, but was all too familiar. Her mouth suddenly dry, Alex smirked. "I've only been out of hospital two days, sir," she quipped, her stunning hazel eyes finally glancing to him. Jim's stance seemed to soften and he suddenly shot her a lazy smile. "I've seen you drink, Alex, and I would think as long as Luigi's doesn't have a promotion on Russian vodka, we should be okay."

...And there it was. Alex clamped a hand over her mouth in shock and horror, her soulful eyes filling with tears of fear and anger. Stepping back, she expected Jim to fill the silence with some glib punchline but he didn't. He merely stood before her, waiting for her to process her emotions enough to speak. "You.." was all she managed at first, her hand shaking as she removed it from her mouth. "You do remember me..." Jim gave her a curt nod, but before he could digress further, Alex's shock morphed into rage. **"You shot me...you held a gun to my head and you **_**shot**_** me, you f**king monster!"** She backed further away, stopped only by Jim's newly-acquired desk. Slowly, Jim advanced on her, the warm smile turning in to a sickening smirk so slowly she could hardly make sense of it. "Oh, come off it, Alex; I got you back here, didn't I? Got you back to where you wanted to be? Back to your precious **_GENE_**?" He spat the words at her like venom.

"Here?" Alex shrieked in frustration at his lack of understanding. "I didn't _**want**_ to be here! This isn't home! All this is, Jim, is the lesser of two bloody evils for me! I just want to go home to my little girl!" Her fear was forgotten as she jabbed her finger straight into his chest. Without missing a beat, he caught her hand, encompassing it in his own so tightly she feared that bones might break. "But _do you,_ Alex? Is that _really_ what you want?" Jim's face was like stone and his grip on her unwavering. "Because, for all your whining and moaning, when you were sleeping beside me you would call out only one name in your sleep; _and it wasn't mine_." His face was awash in jealousy. Alex gulped audibly before she could speak, but Jim only pulled her closer. "I never gave it much thought, see," he continued with a manic glint in his eye, "I just thought you were having a nightmare; I held you and helped you get back to sleep." Jim's face seemed to soften momentarily at the memory. "So, imagine my surprise when this file lands on my desk: Gene Hunt and DI Alex Drake! And what a heartwarming sight you two were walking in to CID yesterday..." He leaned into her until she could feel the anger and envy radiating off of him in waves. "Tell me one thing, Alex." Jim cupped her jaw tightly with his free hand. "Did you think about him when you were with me?" He seemed to scrutinise every inch of her face for answers. Too petrified to speak, Alex merely glared back at him with desperate eyes. "I said, _DID YOU THINK OF HIM WHILE I WAS FUCKING YOU, ALEX?_" He screamed militantly into her face; anyone passing his office would have heard every syllable. "**NO**!" She protested, tears welling in her eyes. "**LIAR**!" Jim finally released his hold on her jaw, but not on her hand. "I'm not!" Alex's shoulders slumped in defeat as she moved her free hand to his chest, feeling his heart race beneath her fingertips. "Are you and he...?" For once, Jim didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence. Jim inhaled deeply, giving her no warning as he dug his fingers in her hair and pulled at the roots, dragging her head back sharply. Alex winced at the discomfort. "I'd just answer the question if I were you, Alex; remember what happened last time you tried to get clever?" His breath was hot on her neck and she could have kicked herself for the slight note of arousal she felt for him. Pulling her hair tighter into his grasp, he positioned his mouth to her ear. "Has he touched you?" Jim's mouth grazed over her earlobe and it was all she could do not to let out the moan that was trapped in her chest. "No," she spoke in a small, unsure voice. "Are you sure? Because if he has,_ I will find out._ You do not want to know what I will do if I find out you've lied to me." Finding her voice from somewhere, Alex pushed at his shoulders feebly. "We haven't...we never. Came close to snogging once, but no...never!" Alex bit her lip.

"Oh, I know he wants you..." Jim's hands were still tangled in her hair, but his lips seemed to be playing over her exposed neck now. "I've seen the way he looks at you..." Alex couldn't help but succumb to her growing desire as she felt him chuckle spitefully into the crook of her neck. "...but he's not allowed you; not _ever_..._do you understand that, Alex_?" He brought his face to meet her gaze as she nodded in compliance. "Yes, I understand." She could make no pretense now; her eyes gave her away. "Do you know why that is?" She hated herself for yielding to his patronising tone, but she shook her head all the same as she looked in the opposite direction. "It's because you..." Jim punctuated the word by running his forefinger between her breasts. " ..._BELONG_ to me_,_ Alex. This was already established...31 years ago." His body leaned further into hers, the sheer weight of him causing her to sit on the desk she was leaning against. Seizing this moment of weakness, Jim hooked his hands under her thighs; pulling her flush to him, he crashed a forceful kiss upon her lips. For a moment, Alex resisted, pushing her hands against his chest and turning her head away from his advances. Still keeping a tight grip on her thighs, he paused. "Do you want me to stop, Alex? Look me in the eyes and tell me to stop." Jim spoke levelly, yet his body gave his cool, composed exterior away. Her silence was all the permission Jim needed. Pulling Alex close to him, he continued to kiss a trail down the column of her neck as she racked her nails through his hair, a gesture borne half out of lust and half out of anger. "You bastard..." Alex moaned as he made short work of her ill fitting top, pulling it away effortlessly. "You utter... bastard," she whimpered as he bit her bare shoulder. "I hate you, Jim," she said weakly, willing herself to believe the words. Jim looked down at her, her face red and her chest heaving for breath, and laughed in a cruel and mocking tone. Without warning, he gave a solid jab to her shoulder, sending her flying backwards onto the desk. Now laid back on the desk before him, Alex gasped as he ran his hand up her leg to the apex of her thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric. "You see, Alex, I might believe you, if your body didn't betray you so..." He ran his thumb over the denim seam at this juncture, sending a delicious shudder running right to her core. He continued this motion for a few seconds, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of her writhing with every stroke of his thumb. "Do you hate me, Alex?" he teased, never stopping the slow torture. "_Do you?_" Alex ground her teeth; he had her right where he wanted her, he wouldn't stop until she had bared her soul. She nodded her head in response, continuing the contradiction between mind and body. "Say it..._I want to hear you say it_," Jim commanded. She panted as he increased the friction. "No..." Alex whispered grudgingly, but Jim only leaned over, never moving his hand from between her legs and positioning himself over her so that she could not escape his scrutiny. "I didn't hear that, you'll have to say it again." He looked at her, fascinated. "No..." she murmured, closing her eyes. "No _what_, Alex?" Jim pushed her further, a sadistic yet lustful grin on his face. "Stop, Jim...no...you can't..." she sighed, choking out the words as her hands now grappled desperately for purchase on the desk. "Yes, I can. _I can and I will,_" he replied, clearly drunk on his victory, knowing her body's betrayal of her thoughts. In seconds, he had torn open her jeans with the impatience of a school boy and thrust his hand down the front. Far from slow and gentle like before, he was rough, his hand taking on a new pace. Were she not so ridiculously aroused it might have hurt; maybe it was _supposed_ to hurt, but Alex cursed herself for loving every harsh thrust of his hand as she felt herself spiralling out of control. Unceremoniously, Jim shoved her face to the side and whispered into her ear, weaving a tapestry of filth. "Do you think Gene thinks about you like this, Alex, all those long nights alone in that office...do you think he wonders what you would feel like? What do you think he would do if he could see us, you writhing in front of me like this? Do you think he would acquiesce to your slutty nature, Alex? Give in to your masochistic fantasies and make you come harder than you ever have in your life?" Alex could take no more. "Stop!" Her voice was pleading. Jim stopped his hand and she couldn't hide the frustration. Alex moaned loudly, her hands gripping the lapels of his grey suit. "Please...please...," she whimpered in spite of herself. "I need _you_." This made him nearly lose control; his breath caught in his throat, and he pushed her back down to resume, his hand working her harder and faster until she was panting at every stroke. "That's it, my darling...let it happen..." Jim's voice was now encouraging. "Oh my Go..d Jim, I'm going to..." She breathed out the words as Jim continued, and as soon as the words left her lips her orgasm raged through her, reaching every corner of her body. "F**k..f**k, Jim ...S**t! Oh, my God!" she swore, moaning as Jim slowed, wringing out every last drop of pleasure from her. His work done, he moved over her, putting his hand behind her head and cupping it gently before leaning down to kiss her languorously, his teeth tugging slightly on her bottom lip. And then, straightening his jacket and tie while running a hand through his dark waves in an effort to smooth them back to normalcy, Jim looked back at Alex. "As you were. I'm leaving the office in an hour, so you'd best get to work recovering that file you were so earnestly looking for."


End file.
